Betrayal
by XxSurfer360xX
Summary: Gilbert Beilschmidt is a jew in the wrong place at the wrong time. His Brother Ludwig is a Nazi. When Gilbert finally gets picked up by his brother and the Gestapo, he realized just how cold the world really is. Sorry, major revising happening right now.
1. Shipment

**IMPORTANT:  
****If you're wondering, I'm constantly updating this fic to make sure I get rid of any flaws. Please send a serious critique and let me know if anything seems off. Dont worry, I'll be getting to updating with actual chapters soon, I'm trying to find someone who will go through and point out anything that needs fixing. **

**A/N : Hey! So ok, Gil is a bit OC. This chapter is to sort of give you a feel of what's going on and the situation. it's a bit unclear I know, but that's my point. The story will develop later on but I dont know if I'll continue it. Just leave a reveiw of what you think and if you have any way of helping me make any part of this story better just let me know! I would certainly appreciate it! If worst comes to worst I'll re-write the whole thing, but I like the idea and the plot so I wont give up completly on it!**

* * *

It was cold. It was dark. Everyone cramed together, paniced and screaming. Mothers separated from their children in the uproar of panic and fright would scream and frantically try to get back to their helpless innocent child as they were shoved into boxcars.

Was this really the promised sactuary? The Germans seemed a bit forcefull and rough. And there was the fact that you could not refuse going.

Because you're a jew. That's the only true overall explination they could give me. Because I'm a jew, I'm now crammed into a small rail freight car. My destination: Auschwitz.

* * *

Gilbert stood in a corner in the cramped boxcar, the same place he had been three days ago...or was it...weeks? He wasn't quite sure. It was hard to tell the time that had passed since he was shoved in along with others of his kind into that box. In the freezing cold of winter, Gilbert didn't have much to cover himself, so he relied on the small man next to him for warmth. It wasn't much. But it was enough to get by. The car itself smelled of dead decaying humans and a bathroom that had not been cleaned for years.

"It smells..." The small man whimpered. He looked to be about twenty, his blue eyes flickered some in the small amount of moonlight that had squeezed itself through the thin cracks and holes of the boxcar's walls.

"Not much you can do about that...how many are dead now...?" Gilbert whispered back, cuddled close to the other.

"...I dont know...From what I can see there are more than ten dead..." The small man replied after a moment of silence. "What's you're name by the way...I never asked..."

"Gilbert...Gilbert Beilschmidt..." The albino replied dryly.

"Beilschmidt...I've heard that somewhere before..." The man looked at the ground, going over his memories of when he was taken, his body tensed, his eyes squeezing shut for a few seconds as if something was paining him.

"You probably have. My brother is well known in Germany..." Gilbert replied with a soft whisper.

"Brother...? He was the spitting image of the perfect race...I saw him while I was being taken...he was the one who...s-shot...my wife... He's you're brother?" The man looked at Gilbert with curious eyes, those of which a small child might have.

"...That's him...Ludwig..." Gilbert said nothing more in return. How could he? For it was his brother who had done these things. At first it was alright. He thought his departure was nothing. That it would be better than home. Ludwig had described his destination as if it where a heaven. Now he sat here, surrounded by bodies. There was nothing he could say that would help to comfort the man. He hated his brother now. _"That liar..."_

"Oh..." The man whispered in response, staring at the floor with saddened eyes.

No matter how much Gilbert wanted it to be the Nazi's fault, to say that his brother really didn't want to do these things...He knew that his brother thought he was doing right. It was his brother, after all, who had gotten Gilbert into this mess in the first place. Though it was still a surprise to Gilbert, a small part of him was expecting it. The minute Ludwig came home and announced he had joined the Nazi party, Gilbert knew somehow that he was in for some trouble, having heard many stories of strange disappearances of fellow townspeople. Most being of the Jewish religion, and the suspected culprits- Nazis. Gilbert being such,and his brother a Nazi, he was rather afraid that the rumors were true. It was only a matter of time before his brother had reported him to the Gestapo, and Gilbert's nightmares becoming reality with every cry of hunger.

He could remember his brother's betrayal like it was yesterday...or maybe it was...

Closing his eyes he went back to the memories of when he and Ludwig were children.

* * *

_"Gilbert! Brother! Brother wait up! I want to come with you!" Ludwig, around 5 years old, called out to his brother as he ran up next to him._

_"Ludwig! You always want to come with me! Dont you have other things to do!" Gilbert turned to face his brother, Everywhere he went this little rascal had to go with him. Gilbert was starting to grow rather annoyed with his new "Big Brother" role. The boys' mother smiled warmly from the chair she sat at, hearing the brother's small spat, and walked up behind Ludwig, putting a hand on his shoulder._

_"Gilbert...dont be so hard on him...he loves you and wants to be just like his big brother..." She gave Gilbert that warm smile that never left his memory. It always lingered, whether it be a blessing or curse at the time. Gilbert was too young and naive to understand his mother's inevitable illness, to fully appreciate the benefits of having the privilege of a mother. Her words seem to echo in Gilbert's head for a few minutes before the small boy sighed and shrugged. "Okay fine. Ludwig you can come."_

With the albino's words, Ludwig clapped happily and smiled at his brother. "Thank you brother! Thank you!"

* * *

To think that his younger brother used to depend on him so much...But Gilbert's thoughts were scattered, and eyes flew open when the boxcar rattled on the tracks. Once it steadied he sighed. He hated remembering how it was before the day he was taken. It always got him depressed, and the situation he was in didn't help at all.

"Gilbert...do you think we'll ever get out of here...? I mean...Go home...After the war. Like they promised when we were taken?" The man asked, nudging Gilbert back to reality.

"We may...They said the camp would be a sanctuary...It's a bit odd the way they transport us...but...maybe when we get there it wont be so bad..." Gilbert sighed, now not even he could believe such nonsense. "At least that's one thing to hope for..." Even once his fears of disappearing like others of his kind had been confirmed, Ludwig made it seem as if he were headed for something absolutely wonderful. Slowly that thought melted away, as each body hit the ground with a thud.

"Maybe...from the way they told us...it seems like it'll be better than home...But if it's so great then why do we have to go through this? Some are dead...that doesn't seem like something that would happen if you were on you're way to a sanctuary..."

"No...it doesn't..." Gilbert sighed.

"How were you taken?..." Gilbert cringed at the question. That wasn't a topic he really wanted to get into, but then again what else is there to talk about?

"My brother." He deadpanned, hoping that would be a satisfying answer.

But of course, it was not. "Ludwig...yeah I figured if that cold man was your brother he'd be involved somehow...but what happened?" The smaller man whispered, hoping he didn't upset Gilbert by asking.

"He showed up at the door. With two strange men standing next to him I'd never seen before. He held out his hand to me with a smile on his face and told me that I had to go. That I was going to a place where I'd no longer be in the way. At first I didn't understand...Ludwig never once complained I was in his way...And then he told me that it wasn't a bad thing...that he didn't hate me. That it was only temporary and that I'd be back. And not to worry because I was going to a wonderful place-" Gilbert was cut off, the man's head shot up and he stared at Gilbert.

"I was told it was a wonderful place too...an amazing, wonderful place...though it wasn't by you're brother. I had serious doubts though when they took my wife from me. I watched as they took her down the street and killed her...They told me that she was using me...that she was the reason Germany lost the war..." He bit his lip. "Gil do you really think we're going to such a place? A-A wonderful place...I-I mean." The man clutched Gilbert's wrist, biting his lip and staring into Gilbert's eyes, digging for an answer. Hope.

Gilbert sighed, looking through a hole in the wall of the boxcar. He stared out into the moonlit, snow covered, empty land beyond.

"...Nein..."


	2. Arrival

The more Gilbert thought about it, the less he believed his brother's tale of his destination. That thought replaced with the feeling of betrayal. His own brother would do this? It seemed as if not an hour before he was taken, he and his brother were on good terms together, Gilbert stayed out of his brother's way, he knew Ludwig worked hard. Then...Suddenly he was being thrown out?...Getting in the way of the war...he wasn't doing much of anything since the war started. Normaly he'd go get their rations for the week, come home, laze around and sleep, maybe a few chores here and there while Ludwig was away during the day. How could that get in the way of the war?

But then he remembered what the officer said to him as he was shoved into the boxcar.

* * *

_"Why! Why am I in the way! What was I doing! Why are you taking me away! Ludwig! What is this!? People being killed! This isn't what you promised me!" Gilbert frantically looked around for his brother, searching hard for him in the sea of confusion and panic. People being shoved left and right, screams and harsh orders filling Gilbert's ears. Unable to find his younger brother, he turned back to the guard, who glared up at him, standing on the ground in front of the boxcar's doors._

_"Because you're a Jew." He said bluntly walking over to one door of the boxcar, slamming it closed. "You're in the way of Germany's revival. You're the reason we're in this mess anyway."_

_Gilbert was pushed back by another load of people who were corralled in, shoving his way back through to the door, he cried out. "What do you mean!? How do my beliefs have anything to do with the war's progress!?" He fought for as long as he could to hold the door open, but eventually he was over powered and the door to the boxcar closed in his face._

_"Not this damn war. The first one. The treaty-" The rest was cut off by the loud wailing horn of the train and the hiss of steam. Gilbert was burried under a few others from the force of the train begining to move backwards once the brake was released. Banging on the now locked door once he was able to stand again, he called out for Ludwig. All of his questions still unanswered. And he'd probably never know the truth. That there was no real reason. No real answer. It was simply beacuse Hitler had said so._

_The train lurched forward and again Gil was burried underneath others from the force of the jolt yet again. Shoving them off, he pushed into a corner and pulled his knees to his chest. It was cold..._

* * *

Gilbert was yet again pulled from his thoughts when the train came to a screeching halt, throwing him forward into the man he was huddled with.

The man yelped a little and stood up, trying to look through the cracks in the walls. "What's going on Gil? Can you see?"

Gil turned and looked out of the hole he had been staring out of earlier and watched closely. "I can't see much...but there are Nazis walking around...They're shoving people out of the car behind us and...a-and-" Gil was then cut off by the doors to their car sliding open with a loud screech.

"OUT. All of you!" A loud raspy voice sounded off and people began to panic again. One by one everyone was yanked out into the freezing night. It was worse for Gil though, when he was taken he had no time to put shoes or anything warm on, so he was now walking in snow with bare feet.

"Stand in a line! When an officer comes to you and fills out you're paperwork you will go to the group you are directed to! If you refuse you will be shot!"

As the, what appeared to be, head officer announced this, he demonstrated by taking out his weapon and shooting down a man who was arguing with another soldier. People began to go into an uproar. Gilbert was a bit too short to see over anyone in front of him, so he couldn't really see what had happened, but he didn't need to. Just the sound of the loud bang, and the pained screams that could be faintly heard above the chaos, were enough to get the point across.

Shoved along, Gilbert was forced into a line directly behind the one in front of him. People were whispering amongst themselves as a tall blond man in a uniform walked down the row of people slowly. Asking them their name, occupation, and age. Slowly one by one the people in the first line were placed into groups.

There was a tap on Gilbert's shoulder that made him yelp a little, but not loud enough to direct any attention towards him. Turning in the direction of the tap he glared straight at the person who had touched him until he realized it was the man he was huddled with in the boxcar. "O-Oh it's you."

"Y-Yeah it's me. What's going on? Why do they need us in groups?" He looked scared, his eyes darting every now and then to the body that lay in a patch of red snow, now visible because the first row had been moved into groups.

Sounds of gasps and gurgling could be heard from the body as it struggled to breath, hang on to the last bit of life it had left. But that bit had been short lived.

"How am I supposed to know. I know just as much as you do-" Gilbert automatically silenced when the officer stepped in front of the other man.

"Name." The officer demanded. His tone was cold and bitter, sounding almost robotic in a way.

"Niklas...N-Niklas Abendroth." The small man-Niklas-replied.

_"So that was his name...I'd forgotten to ask-" _

"Occupation." the voice of the officer instantly cut off Gilbert's thoughts, causing a shiver to run down Gilbert's spine.

"W-Watchmaker." Niklas replied quickly, his voice wavering and his hands clenched tightly. Gilbert swore he saw the young man start to shake with fear.

The officer stared at him, tucking his clipboard under his arm silently, not making any indication of what was going through his mind. His expression was unreadable, making Niklas fidget under the ice cold glare. "...Age."

"T-Twenty three." Niklas replied quickly.

"FAUST! Over here." The officer shouted. Niklas jumped, yelping slightly at the sudden shout.

"Ja sir!" A soldier called, running up next to the other. A well built, strong, tall man.

Gilbert mumbled something about his feet being cold under his breath, silencing when Faust shot him a glare.

"Take this watchmaker to the special group. He's to be taken at dawn to the chambers. We have no need of watchmakers here." The other officer ordered.

Niklas glanced at Gilbert with fear in his eyes. He didn't know what the man meant by "Chambers" but from the tone of his voice he could tell it was not a place he'd want to be destined for.

"W-Wait please I can do other things too!" Niklas pleaded desperately. Looking at both the men with wide, fearful eyes.

"Like what?" Faust grunted, eyeing the small scrawny man, his wide arms folded. He looked impatient.

"I-I Uh I-" Niklas stuttered, staring at the ground.

"Spit it out kid, we don't have all day." Faust snarled, grabbing Niklas's chin, forcing Niklas to look him in his stone cold eyes.

"I-I used to shovel coal for the trains when I was younger, certainly that can be of use!" Niklas squeaked out, not daring to look away from Faust.

"Any idiot with a shovel can do that." Faust snickered and shoved Niklas to the ground. "Though wait a minute Freud...He's nice entertainment to watch stumble around. I'd like to see him as a servant...You know. For one of our househol-"

"If you wish use of him take him." Freud snarled, waving Faust off and turning to Gilbert.

"Would you look here. An albino. Scrawny too." He sneered and spat on Gilbert's foot. "Where's you're shoes?"

"I-I didn't have time to get them. I was rather rushed out the door, and it's kind of hard to ask around for some when you're being crammed into freight carts like animals." Gilbert retorted, though, under his skin he felt an intense fear of the man who stood in front of him.

Freud snickered and grabbed Gilbert by the collar, pulling him up to eye level. "Cut the wise guy shit or you'll end up like that rat over there." He nudged his head in the direction of the body laying still in now deep red snow. Gilbert dared look and stiffened at the sight. The man's skin was pale, a look of horror forever etched into his features. The only color on the body was the mop of brown hair and a large gaping hole between his eyes, the same deep red that tainted the snow, painted his face.

"N-Nein." Gilbert muttered. Turning his head away from the gruesome scene.

"Thought so. Name." Freud whipped out his clipboard from under his arm and clicked his pen open, letting go of Gilbert's collar.

"G-Gilbert...Beilschmidt-" Once again, Gilbert was back in Freud's grip. It happened without warning, Freud's hand moving so fast Gilbert didn't have enough time to react before Freud's thick, long fingers wrapped around his neck. Squeezing he lifted Gilbert easily off the ground slightly, balancing on the balls of his feet, for Gilbert was a lot smaller and lighter than Freud.

"How dare you defile the Beilschmidt name with your petty lies!" Freud squeezed harder, cutting off Gilbert's air. Struggling the albino kicked and squirmed to no avail, his hands coming up to try and pry off the ones around his neck. "How DARE you insult Ludwig Beilschmidt. How DARE you try to impersonate such a good name. Ludwig Beilschmidt is one of the best of the Nazi party! He helps us get rid of filthy rats like you!" Freud growled, his voice rising with each statement, loosening his grip only slightly so he'd not knock Gilbert out.

Gilbert gulped for air, gasping loudly, though the grip still tight, refreshing air filled his lungs. "S-Sir I-It's true! H-He's m-m-my b-brother!"

Freud laughed, a heartless, mocking laugh. "And mind telling me how the HELL a jew ended up in the Beilschmidt bloodline!" He snarled.

"I-It's not by blood sir!" ((1)) Gilbert gasped out, kicking more, needing more air, his head throbbed from his circulation being nearly cut off.

"Not by blood?" Freud lowered his voice to a growl, then a wide smirk replaced the frown on his face. He laughed for a quick moment again. "What a mistake that was. What the hell where you thinking?" He let go, letting Gilbert fall to the ground.

Gasping for air, Gilbert croaked out. "Nein...I'm proud of it. Fuck you."

"Oh that attitude will get you nowhere here very quickly. I'd suggest you straighten up. Occupation." Freud's voice hardened, his expression turning serious.

"None." Gilbert mumbled. "I couldn't find work." He sat up slowly, rubbing his neck.

"None? What a damn let down to such a strong family." He sneered, yanking Gilbert back to his feet by his arm. "Age."

"T-Twenty four." Gilbert coughed some, flinching as Freud reached for him, standing up on still slightly wobbly knees.

"Get in the group to the left." Freud hissed through clenched teeth, pointing to the designated group. Gilbert swallowed and nodded, running off to the group he was directed to without a word.

"Freud I'm taking that black haired one with me." Faust shouted as he rounded Niklas up into a smaller group.

Niklas had been watching the entire scene with Gilbert, holding himself back from running over to try and help free Gilbert. He knew it would only end up with both of them hurt, if not dead.

Sighing in relief, Niklas watched as Gilbert went to another group. _"Good, he didn't get his head popped off." _He wondered if he'd ever see Gilbert again. Maybe they would get lucky, though he doubted it.

* * *

**A/N:**

**((1)): From my knowledge there are two types of Jewish people. There is a religion yes, but there is a bloodline as well, there are ways of getting tested for traces of bloodlines dating as far back as biblical times. In Gilbert's case, he is not of jewish background but had taken up the religion as a non-heir. Which is why Gilbert is jewish and Ludwig is not.**

**Well, here's the end of chapter three. I'm not entirely sure Auschwitz is located near a train rout. but to my knowledge it was. In my version though, They have to walk through a small streatch of forest to get to the camp. So that's why the whole location thing might be off. I'm trying my best to make this as accurate as possible . Tell me if you see anything off or wrong and I will gladly try my best to change it. **

**Please Review!**


	3. Classifications

Gilbert could hardly feel his feet anymore. He'd been standing in that group for what seemed like hours. Finally though, a different soldier than Freud or Faust came up. Ordering that personal belongings, and anything that was not clothing were to be handed over immediatly.

All Gilbert had was a small sliver necklace of the Jewish star his mother had givin him on her death bed, though instead of handing it over as he was ordered, he made sure to confine it under his clothing.

Once everyone had handed over personal belongings, they were rounded up and forced along a path that led to the camp.

Looking up Gilbert could see smoke and the barbwire fence, and it smelled even worse than it had on the train, he almost wished he'd died on that trian. Those who surrounded him only consisted of other men, some more built than himself and some scrawnier, but he knew none of them, making him feel vulnerable and alone. He wondered where they were going to take Niklas and if he'd ever see the man again.

"Up to the gates!" The soldier next to him barked and shoved Gilbert into a few people walking next to him.

It wasn't the smoke, the smell, or the barren camp ahed of him that scared Gilbert most. It was the people walking around in the camp itself. Men of various ages stumbled around in the camp. Everyone wore blue and white striped clothing. Some wore extra around it to keep warm, but most just shivered in the cold. On each blouse there was a triangle...some had different colors than others...there was Green...Pink...Blue...and Yellow...the yellow marks, though, had two triangles...like David's star.

Gilbert knew exactly which symbol he'd be getting.

The men in his group were ordered into a line, Gil being somewhere in the middle. He had time to look around as another officer slowly made his way down the line. From what Gil could see, there were a lot of buildings. All bland. And the logo IG Farben was mounted proudly on the building they stood next to.

"Name."

Gilbert jumped. "W-What?"

"Name." A tall dark haired soldier stood infront of Gilbert.

"Gilbert..."

"Last?"

"B-Beilschmidt."

"...Beilschmidt?"

"J-Ja, L-Ludwig is...my brother..."

"hm. Religious veiws?"

"Jewish."

"Jewish? And you're Ludwig's brother?"

"Not by blood. By choice..." He mumbled. He'd only said it twice but it felt like that answer had been programed into his brain.

"Ah. What a terrible mistake."

"Ja...I know."

"Stand in the group to you're right."

At least this man was a bit less cold. He could hear the reluctance in the soldier's voice as he asked Gilbert these questions.

He listened as others mumbled and continued to look around, paying attention to the people again. They looked almost like...zombies. Walking skeletons...how long had they been here? And why did they look like that? Obviously the promise of a sanctuary was a lie, but he would have never imagined anything like this to happen. How could he not have known about this kind of thing in the first place! His brother was in the military!

"Because he kept it from me..." He mumbled, now staring at his frozen feet in the snow.

He remembered then...Ludwig never once told him about the war aside from the occational "We're winning...or We lost this battle, but we'll win the many more to come."

Hell he hadn't heard about anything like this from gossip either. His friend Francis seemed to know a lot about what was going on...but he never talked about anything like this...Gilbert doubted Francis knew there were such camps in exsistance.

What he did know though. Was that fellow jews were being taken from their homes. He found this out when some of his fellow church mongers dissapeared, but when he asked what happened he'd never get an answer. Nobody knew.

This late in the war though...it was the harsh December of 1944...it made him wonder just how long this camp had been here. Kept from the prying eyes of the public, or the public kept from speaking of it.

Once the soldier had made it to the end of the line, there were four new groups formed. Gilbert's group along with the second group were ordered to move, and like barn animals they were led to a section of buildings to the far right.

Once again Gilbert was asked his name, age and religion. He answered and gave his explinations and soon he was held down in a chair. He didn't struggle as his hair was shaved off, but he did wince and try to pull away as they forcefully tattooed a number onto the inside of his forearm. 7589.

When that was finished he was forced into a room labeled "_Jude_" and told to strip of his clothing. Fearing his necklace being taken from him he held the charm against his chest to hide it, the chain itself blending with his unpigmented skin. An officer handed him the uniform the people outside were wearing. A yellow star sewn onto it. Getting redressed he let go of his chest and put the rest of the uniform on.

"It reeks..." He said and the officer glared at him. "It's been re-used. Deal with it."

Gilbert nodded and walked out to where he was directed after getting his shirt on. Luckily, in slight concern of him getting frostbite, they gave him shoes. They were too small of course, a size or two off, but at least it was something.

He was then led to a building in the same area. This time, he was alone. The man who led him, another soldier, scared him as well. He was a strong build, blonde hair...blue eyes. He reminded Gil all to well of Ludwig, setting a deep hatred for the soldier that now stood in front of him.

"I'm you're bunkmaster. You'll be living in this room. Understand?"

Gilbert nodded. The soldier's voice was deep and cold. Opening the door, the soldier kicked Gilbert in. "It's bedtime. Get in a bunk and get to sleep."

Gilbert looked around as the door slammed shut behind him. Everyone who was whispering in the room silenced and all eyes turned to the now bald Gilbert.

Walking down the small, cramped aisle between the rows of three story bunks that lined each wall in the tiny room, Gilbert looked for any open spot. There wasn't any. "I-Is there any open spaces up top?" He whispered. It smelled. Oh how it smelled. It didn't matter where he went, there was always that smell of decaying flesh and filth.

"Ja. There's one here." A small voice croaked out and a hand pulled out of the top bunk at the end of the row.

"Right next to the window."

"Danke..." Gil called out to the voice and climbed up. There was no latter, so he did his best to keep himself from kicking anyone who was on the lower levels as he pulled himself up. Some helped him get his feet up and finally he made it to the top bunk, hitting his head on the ceiling when he tried to sit up.

"Watch you're head." The voice called again and Gilbert looked around to see who it was. Soon he locked eyes with a pair of green ones.

"I'm Fynn. Fynn Ehrlichmann. What's you're name?" The man, Fynn, smiled warmly at Gilbert. His features were sunken in, his eyes having bags underneath, and his cheeks hollow. He seemed very underweight.

"Gilbert. Gilbert Beilschmidt." As if Gilbert weren't uncomfortable enough, as soon as he said that name everyone in the room seemed to gasp and stare.

"Beilschmidt. Like...Ludwig...Beilschmidt...?" A small whimper beneath them was heard and Gilbert sighed.

Gilbert was growing rather annoyed. "Ja, Ludwig Beilschmidt! My ass of a brother! The reason I'm here in this God forsaken place! Mind telling me how my little brother's so damn famous!?"

"He's an important Nazi. He works under Hitler, maintaining the camps." the voice whimpered again, seeming to cower at the mention of the name.

"Yeah so? There are plenty of Nazis who aren't as well known as he is who maintain these damn camps, right?! What makes him so special?"

Fynn's shaky voice answered this time. "He's basically the head of this camp. He runs almost everything. From executions to simple tasks...He was just transfered a few weeks ago-"

"What?" Gilbert couldn't believe his ears. "E-Executions-?"

Gilbert was cut off when the doors bursted open. Two men came in and stood in the middle of the room.

"You...You...You...anddd...You. Come with us." They pointed to a few men, ripping them from their places in the bunks, and shoving them towards the door.

Four men slowly dragged themselves out of the bunks. Each were old, worn and looked ready to fall over dead...The look on their hollow, sunken in face would forever haunt Gilbert.

They were scared. As if they feared for their lives. Like they knew what was about to happen to them. Like a deer in front of a car's headlights just before impact.

"MOVE" One of the soldiers kicked a man in the back, forcing him to stumble out the door as the other's shuffled through. A feeble cry was heard from the man kicked over, as he struggled to keep his the doors slammed closed, everyone remained silent.

Everyone, that is, except for Gilbert.

"What just happened! Where are they taking those men!" Panic filled his voice, he wasn't sure what to think.

"Like I was saying..." Fynn spoke calmly. "When you grow too old...or you hurt yourself...or you get sick...a-anything that can prevent you from working...they take you away to Auschwitz II..."

"A-Auschwitz II?" Gilbert asked curiously, looking at Fynn now.

"Ja...The execution camp..." Fynn spoke grimly of the second camp.

"Is that where we are now?" Gilbert couldn't help but feel scared. Would he soon end up like those men? He was albino, which mean he had a lot of medical issues. He was extremely sensitive towards the sun, and his eyes to intense light. He also had early arthritis, making his joints ache.

"Nein, we're in Auschwitz III. The labor camp. Tomorrow when you wake up, you'll have to walk a few kilometers to the factories where you'll be working alongside us..." Fynn yawned some, he would need to get to bed soon if he wanted to make it through the next day.

"I have a question." Gilbert mumbled.

"And I have an answer-I-I think." Fynn gave a small laugh, trying to lighten the mood from the previous conversation, but to not much avail.

"When did my brother-Ludwig-when did he get transfered here to work?" Gilbert asked, his hands tugging at the collar of his shirt.

"Uhm...A few days ago...I think. He's done a lot...and made his presence known to everyone." Fynn shivered, his eyes flickering with a hint of fear before reverting to their relaxed state before.

"Days...What was the date?" Gilbert called out and Fynn shrugged.

"December 23." Another man's gruff voice echoed through the room. "I'm Barend by the way..."

"A pleasure..." Gilbert said, rubbing his temples. If he could remember correctly, that was the day before he was taken.

The thought sickened Gilbert. His brother knew his fate and yet he /still/ sent him away? Though he was expecting it because he was jewish and his brother was the "follow the rules" type, he didn't think after everything the two had gone through, from their mother's death to proverty, that Ludwig would do something so...so...cruel. Gilbert could feel his heart shatter as he remembered the smiling face of his baby brother running around with him where-ever Gilbert ventured.

How could someone he cared so much for do such a thing...?

Slowly Gilbert's mind lapsed back to when he was taken, and slowly he began to realize smaller details he had missed before. His brother's eyes, that where seemingly innocent and normal before, had been none of the sort, a cold glare hidden beneath those blue irises...the smirk that played across his lips...

Fynn placing a knarled hand on Gilbert's shoulder, pulling him out of his thoughts. "Listen...You're here now...and there's nothing you can do about it...just hope you'll make it more than a month here..."

Tears were begining to form in the corners of Gilbert's eyes as his mind raced through memories of he and his brother yet again and the life he would probably never return to.

He didn't want to believe his brother ment harm to him. He didn't want to believe his brother thought he was doing right by sentancing Gil to his inevitable death. He didn't want to believe that the smiling, giggling younger brother from his past no longer cared of his exsitance.

He didn't want to believe this was real...


	4. Bruder

**A/N: I took out some things, I didn't think they needed to be part of the story. Sorry for not updating the revised chapters, school's been getting in the way. **

* * *

"Up! Get up you lazy pigs! Get your meal and get to work!" The bunkmaster slammed the doors open, yanking every other prisoner from their bunks.

Gilbert was shaken from his slumber by the commotion. Yawning he looked outside. It had to be five or six in the morning. It was still dark out, and Gil was shivering uncontrollably.

Fynn noticed this and huddled next to him once they were out of the bunks.

"I'll get you something warm...So you wont freeze to death-" Fynn's soft whisper was cut short, overpowered by the bellowing of the bunkmaster.

"No talking! Keep your mouths shut!" The bunkmaster's eyes burrowed into Gilbert's. Gilbert only nodded in response and huddled closer to Fynn. He knew Fynn would help him through this, and keep him out of trouble-or so he hoped. He prayed that Fynn was someone he could trust.

Once everyone was gathered outside a few men were pulled and forced into a different group. Not daring to speak, Gilbert kept his mouth tight lipped, in fear of ending up in whatever fate the men in the other group were about to face.

"Move!" They moved. The whole group lurched forward in a jolt at the soldier's word. Much like the train, they slowly trugged along. It seemed like an hour had passed by the time they were all given a small tin of watered down soup and a small hunk of dry, stale bread. Soon enough, Gilbert was forced to wolf down everything and then trudge along a path to the factories where they'd be spending the rest of the day.

Looking around, Gilbert saw men from another group being shoved into a factory. One had stumbled and fallen, and a soldier walked up, screaming at the man to stand up and get a move on, as well as giving a good beating..that soldier...Gilbert thought he'd seen him before...blonde hair...Faust?...no...Faust had a smaller build compared to this man.

Gilbert's group was shoved along, his gaze torn from the mysterious soldier, though he'd managed to notice the soldier in question take his post at the door, his gun held lazily to his side as he chatted with the other soldier that accompanied him. Gilbert hoped they would pass by to get a better look to see if he recognized the man...but he wondered what would happen if he was caught staring? Would he be beaten? He'd only been here a day and he already feared for his life..., but wouldn't anyone? As they were shoved along Gilbert could see them approaching the other soldier. Closer and closer and closer.

"Halt!" And everyone stopped dead in their tracks-except for Gilbert who stumbled and hit the man in front of him-which was Barend.

The man who had ordered them to stop walked up to the soldiers standing by the door and spoke before seeing Gilbert struggle to get back to his feet.

"Hey! Get back up on you're feet! What are you doing on the ground! You lazy rat's have all day to work, dont give out now!"

"I-I fell sir!" Gilbert said weakly, stumbling back to his feet with the help of Barend and Fynn, who had been standing next to Gilbert.

"Fell!? How did you fall if-"

Barend turned around, cutting off the soldier and earning a hard glare. "He's new here. He triped on his feet in the snow..."

The soldier slapped Barend "You shut up," then turned back to Gilbert, "get back in line."

Gilbert shook, nodding and doing as told no questions asked. Standing there he looked at the man he was trying to get a better look at before, and that's when blue eyes locked with red. The tall blonde soldier grinned a wide and dark, walking up to Gilbert who was visibly shaking now.

"Hallo...Bruder." The soldier spat at Gilbert's foot. "Looks like you found some shoes."

"H-Hallo...B-Bruder" Gilbert said, jumping slightly with the sudden spat and remark.

Ludwig turned around and returned to his stoic expression, looking at the other soldier. "I'll be pulling this one out. I have a few "Experiments" to test and he's a good specimen."

"Ja, I'll file his trans-" The soldier started to pull out his clip board but was stopped when Ludwig's cool, hardened voice interrupted his actions.

"No need for that. Just continue on. Gilbert Beilschmidt was never here."

"Y-Yes sir." The soldier said shakily and shoved the clipboard under his arm, yanking at his collar a bit nervously.

"Good." Ludwig turned around quickly, making Gilbert and everyone around him flinch. Grabbing Gilbert's arm, Ludwig pulled him from the line and led him away from the factories.

Gilbert struggled in his brother's grip, glaring at his brother until he was a ways away from the factories. "What the hell Ludwig! How could you do this to me! We're brothers! You knew where I was going and yet you lied to me!"

"You are no longer a brother to me. You are meerly a prisoner here at this camp. I did, in fact, know exactly what your fate would be the second I reported you to the gestapo, after I got promoted to run this camp."

Gilbert stayed silent, letting himself get dragged along, glaring at his brother with dark intent behind his eyes. He wished he wasn't so arthritic, the cold was really getting to him. Just closing his hands into a fist sent searing pain down his arm. He knew he had no chance of fighting the other with brute strength.

Ludwig only chuckled and looked at Gilbert with a cold grin. "Now now Bruder...I know that look...it's not my fault you followed Mutter's wishes. If you had just followed my lead for once and joined the military, you wouldn't be in this position. I cannot be blamed for your current predicament, as I was only following the orders of my great leader."

"Why did I even think of saving you're helpless ass. I should have said the truth. That it's by blood! Your a fucking jew too, you just dont practice the religion!" Gilbert cried out, but his mouth was soon covered by Ludwig's gloved hand, his jaw feeling the crushing force of Ludwig's grip.

"You shut you're fucking mouth." Ludwig threw Gilbert on the ground and kicked him. "I DARE you to try and tell them it's by blood."

"Oh yeah?" He coughed some, struggling to get to his knees. " And what if they believe me! Then how are you going to get you're petty revenge?! They'll strip you of rank and throw you in here, and I hope they kill you before you've even-"

Ludwig rammed his steel-toed boot into the space between Gil's ribcage, making him cut short of his angry rant, the wind knocked from him. Reaching down, Ludwig grabbed his brother by his collar and yanked him up slightly.

"Oh. We'll see if you have anything to "say" once I'm through with you." Ludwig pulled out his knife and grinned, tracing the back of the blade along Gilbert's jaw.

"N-Nein! You wouldn't! L-Ludwig!" Gilbert tried to squirm away from his brother's hands, but was easily caught and forced up by his neck, his eyes darted from his brother's cold gaze to the blade.

"Such a beautiful complexion Gilbert...it's a shame this has to happen. But /you/ are a jew."

He grinned devilishly at Gilbert who spat at him. Ludwig only chuckled. "You know, I've always wanted to do this. I always got so damn sick of hearing you go on about how 'Awesome' you were. About how much of a stuck up I am. About how I always have a god damn stick up my ass. Maybe now, I'll finally get some peace and quiet, and a bit of entertainment to add to it all!" Ludwig laughed out darkly before wrenching open Gilbert's mouth. He shoved his thumbs in, forcing Gilbert's tongue out and held the blade into his mouth.

"Say goodbye to that tongue." And Gilbert's world went black for a few seconds. The sound of a blood curdling shriek filled the air.


	5. IMPORTANT NOTICE

**No this isn't an update, forgive me. It's been so long, I know, but I've finally decided to log back onto this account and said "Oh. I have a fic to update."**

I myself can see that this story needs much improvement, but I can't decide what to do with it. So I'm leaving it up to you guys!

Go to my page and click the link at the top for the pole, or, leave a review with your choice. Once I feel I've had enough opinions I'll tally up the votes and see what's to be done about this fic.

You're options are:

Leave it as is, and just continue writing from where I left off.

Revise current chapters but leave the fic up.

Or, Take it down and completely re-think and re-write the entire plot.

You're decision as a reader is very important to me, Thank you to anyone who decides to leave a choice.

Thank you,

XxSurfer360xX


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